


Is That My Shirt?

by MissLee



Series: Tumblr Prompts [14]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Tumblr Prompt, complete fluff, the fluffiest fluff I could manage at 04:23 or smth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-18
Updated: 2018-04-18
Packaged: 2019-04-24 13:50:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14356794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissLee/pseuds/MissLee
Summary: For lavender-lotion who said:BECAUSE THAT WAS MEAN AND BROKE MY HEART, I NEED 57: “ Is that my shirt? ” WITH PETOPHER PLEASE





	Is That My Shirt?

**Author's Note:**

> No word of a lie this was all written between like half three and ten past four AM so yay.
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> [My Tumblr](https://missleeismyname.tumblr.com/)

* * *

 

Peter’s phone pinged with an incoming text.

**Chris @ 21:49**

_Plane was delayed, will be late home. Don’t wait up._

**Peter @ 21:50**

_Will anyway_

**Chris @ 21:50**  

_Getting soft in your old age?_

**Peter @ 21:51**

_Don’t poke fun, wolf misses you -_-_

**Chris @ 21: 52**

_Wow, an emoticon? Really?_

_And you could just say ‘I miss you’._

**Peter @ 21:54**

_Nonsense, I can’t have you thinking that I might actually like you_

_And deal with it :P_

**Chris @ 21:55**

_I’ve married a child._

**Peter @ Message Failed to Send**

_:P :P :P :P :P_

It was a testament to how much Peter _did_ miss him when his wolf started to whine at something as simple as a service failure. They’d been apart for nearly two weeks now (twelve days, but who’s counting?) and he could feel the animal getting restless, ready to burst out from his sternum to go and find it’s missing mate. 

At the beginning, when Chris had first been away, Peter’d had the scent of him still preserved in their sheets. However, it turns out that plastering himself onto them every night until there was nothing left of the worn-leather-and-gun-oil warmth he’d grown so fond of was not in his best interest, and the scent had been all used up within seventy-two hours.

He got up from where he’d been lounging, unsuccessfully trying to read the next chapter of his book, and wandered through to the bedroom. Up until last night he’d been, relatively, good - kept him and the wolf in check nicely and not letting himself give in to the base urge to compile every item Chris had ever touched and roll around in them - but he could just about admit that his control was slipping. 

There was a shirt, old and a little tatty, leftover from Chris’ college days that Peter veritably _loved_. If he was being romantic he’d spout something about it being like the waves trying to resist the pull of the moon, but he wasn’t, and it was honestly more like dangling the purest few grams of cocaine in front of a longterm addict. 

He figured he had at least three hours before Chris returned, so, with a strange reverence, he rummaged around for a moment before finally his hands (and nose) caught onto his prize. 

Honestly, he was pretty sure he wasn’t supposed to know about the shirt, Chris sometimes got a bit touchy when they talked about the past, but he had never been more glad than in that moment to have been the type to snoop where he wasn’t wanted. 

He settled back on their bed, on his side this time after having discarded everything he was wearing apart from his favourite pair of sweatpants, and grips the fabric tightly as he brings it up to his face to take the first heavenly deep breath in. 

He falls asleep like that without meaning to not five minutes later, and misses it when the door to the apartment opens two and half hours later. 

* * *

“Is that my shirt?” Chris asks incredulously. Peter is snuffling adorably against the cotton and Chris can see the exact moment he realises he’s been caught red handed. 

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Peter immediately goes for his trademark aloofness as he shakes the sleep off and sits up so he can shoot a glare at Chris. He has the inexplicable urge to blame him for making him fall asleep despite the man having been several hundred miles away not two hours ago. 

“Oh my God, it is!” Chris grins stupidly at him, “You’re sleeping with my shirt!”

Peter huffs. “Only because _you_ weren’t here,” he grumbles quietly. 

Chris’ smile softens. “I know,” he says as he walks over and presses a kiss to Peter’s temple.”I’m sorry I’m late back, love.”

It does the trick and Peter grabs hold of Chris wherever he can and pulls him down until they’re sprawled across the covers, almost aggressively scenting him, the wolf inside his chest yipping happily when arms surround him and the two of them are suddenly pressed together as close as they can be. 

“Missed you,” Peter admits quietly. 

The arms around him tighten a split second. “I missed you, too.”


End file.
